


What The World Needs

by NightmaresKilledAlice



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, Gore, Horror, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:52:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8581042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightmaresKilledAlice/pseuds/NightmaresKilledAlice
Summary: "All the powers in the universe are already ours. It is we who have put our hands before our eyes and cry that it is dark" 
- Swami Vivekananda





	

The room was starch and bright. The flickering light in the middle of the room made his brain stop, reset, and resume, every time the flickering fell out of pattern. He felt the acid reflux in the back of his throat and gagged, making the muscles in his esophagus tighten and constrict, then loosen. His stomach was empty and, if he decided to drink water, he would’ve been able to feel it travel down his organs into his stomach. There was no water available. His eyes would focus on one point for an eternity, it felt like, and when he did decide to move them, there was a rainbow trail that followed the object when he moved his line of vision. 

He coughed and ran his hands through his own hair, tearing the pieces that had intertwined together and adoring the feeling of his abnormally smooth fingertips over his face; since when had he started touching his face? 

“Come here, hon’. 

Theon slowly removed his hands from where he had been rubbing his eyelids back and forth with the palms of his hands. He ran his pink tongue over his teeth and couldn’t stop moving it until he finally became conscious of what he was doing and decided to do something else. 

“Baby, come here. You need to see this shit.” 

Theon walked over to him with bare feet and felt the moist pools of fluid move across the tile whenever he stepped on them. The blood stuck to the pads of his feet and, if he turned around, he could see his red footprints on the tile that had once resembled cleanliness. As he slithered his hand up the torso, Ramsay pulled Theon close by the back of the neck. Every hair on the back of Theon’s neck stood up on end, as Ramsay inhaled the scent that was radiating from Theon’s pores. 

There they stood, the two of them embracing in the middle of the room. On one wall, there was once a window, but had long since been boarded up with rotting wood, and had a large, blue, tarp stapled over it, for no apparent reason. On another wall, there was an varying array of tools. Let your imagination run wild when picturing these. The third “wall” was the sliding metal garage door of the storage unit, and a line of multi-colored towels lined the crack that had been at the bottom of the door. And the final wall had two people strung up by hooks, naked, with blood dribbling from the cuts, incisions, burns, and the like. The two bodies breathed in time with each other. 

Ramsay walked over to the blonde woman on the right. Her pale arms were stretched above her head, bound with rope and threaded through the rusty hook. Her eyes had long since closed, but her heart still pounded in her battered ribcage. 

“Look at what we have done, my Reek. These people had- I need you to focus on me, Reek - these people had lives a week ago. They were the center of their own universes.” 

Ramsay stuck out his large hand and ran a calloused fingertip over the crusted, scabbing, incision on the woman thigh. That was the first cut they had made on her. 

Theon’s chest was pressed against Ramsay’s back, as Ramsay talked. He ran his teeth over the back of Ramsay’s neck just for the feel of it. Who knows what putrid chemicals were running through the poor souls veins? 

The muscles in the woman jerked and spasmed as Ramsay shoved two fingers inside of the cut and wiggled them around in the interior of the woman upper leg. Blood trickled down the dirty leg, all the way down to the two of her big toe, where it stayed there. Everlasting. 

Ramsay finally removed his fingers from the wound. With his left hand, he reached around behind him and entwined his fingers with Theon’s curls, lightly scratching the scalp with his fingernails. With his right, Ramsay brought the two blood-coated fingers up to Reek’s mouth. Opening his lips, he took the fingers in his mouth and sucked the blood off of them. Using his tongue to trace the fingertips, Theon made no attempt to be neat, letting some of the blood slip from hi mouth and some of it run down the back of his throat, mingling with the acid reflux, morphing into a coppery-chemical cocktail. 

“Fuck yeah.” Ramsay muttered under his breath and pushed his fingers farther back into Reek’s throat. 

Theon gagged as the pads of his fingertips grazed his uvula and scraped the back of his esophagus. 

At this point, Theon stood with his chest still pressed against Ramsay’s back but his fingers clinging at the white tee-shirt he was wearing, trying to vomit with every thrust of Ramsay’s fingers down his throat testing the capacity of Theon’s gag reflex. His lips were rated in blood and saliva, and his slender feet were raised as he stood on his tiptoes to be able to be Ramsay’s height. 

His feet were deformed and beautiful. 

On the left foot, there were only four toes, with the third one missing. Only his big toe still had the nail and it was painted black, whether he did it himself or Ramsay did it for him, Theon can’t remember. On the other foot, there was once an octopus tentacle tattoo that wrapped around his ankle and wrapped around the underside of his foot. However, the color and image of the tattoo had long since faded. He can’t remember if it was burnt off, the skin was grated off, or if the color had just faded. 

He didn’t really know much anymore. 

All Reek knew was that Ramsay destroyed him. Now, they will rip apart every thread of liveliness, sincerity, or hope, that resides in the petty existence that they called humanity. Reek and Ramsay would. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thank you for reading this short little ficlet of mine. I was in the mood to write some Thramsay but I wanted to start fresh and do a little bit of stress-relieving gore. As always, feel free to leave comments or critiques*, and thanks again for reading! 
> 
> *I have some self-righteous and narcissistic tendencies, so I apologize in advance if I don't fix your critiques. However, they will be read and appreciated.


End file.
